You can only keep a farm girl inside, working on a computer, for so long. In fact, I’d argue, that you really shouldn’t keep any person inside doing such a thing for too long. My ability to remain engaged in an activity that involves little more than moving my fingers across a keyboard and eyes across a screen, is thankfully, quite limited. Eventually, I go mad.
This week, when my madness surfaced, it did so in the form of four cups of homemade ricotta cheese, four loaves of homemade bread, three batches of homemade scones, a few hours puttering in the garden, and time spent admiring a bunch of afghan squares my great grandmother had knit a long time ago, but that never made it into a quilt.
It perplexes me to no end that so many tangible, useful and beautiful activities are no longer a part of our common experience. We have so willingly given our time and attention over to cold, inhuman objects and made-up activities that give us little benefit in return. And so, at my breaking point this weekend, I vowed to not lose sight of what feels real. The type of things people might have once done because they had to in order to survive. The type of things my cat and plants still do: get some sun, eat food, drink water, and play.
I’m going to get these things back.
Posts
